


Blossom Tears

by akatsuki_tsukiyomi (Yumi25Nakashima)



Series: First Blush [15]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Hallucinations, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mental Breakdown, Obsession, Paranoia, Past Relationship(s), Possessive Behavior, Psychosis, Reader-Insert, Tailoring, Twisted, Unhealthy Relationships, Yandere, Yandere England (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28543671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yumi25Nakashima/pseuds/akatsuki_tsukiyomi
Summary: You’re lying right nowYou still love me, you’re still the sameI’m sorry for the painful timesI won’t lose you again
Relationships: England (Hetalia)/Reader
Series: First Blush [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089500
Kudos: 6





	Blossom Tears

**Author's Note:**

> (F/N) - Reader's First Name  
> (L/N) - Reader's Last Name  
> Arthur Kirkland - England's official human name
> 
> This is based heavily off of (VIXX's) Leo and Lyn's music video of their song 'Blossom Tears' but that doesn't mean that what was shown there will be shown here. I've altered the story for the plot's convenience, so there definitely will be similarities but also differences (The few italicized lines are translated lyrics from the song).

(F/n) was aware of it, his tendency to be smiling one minute and then scowling the next. She was used to it. She was used to him. He had been that way even before they had started officially going out. As far as she knew, it was because of a nasty break-up sometime in his past. He never opened up about it, and (F/n) didn't want to know either way. What she wanted to do was to help him. She wanted to help him piece himself back together.

'He needs someone to be there for him. He needs someone to care,' that's what she tells herself day-in and day-out. They aren't an on-again-off-again couple as one would expect, in fact, they were solid. Despite all the reasons (F/n) has to break up with him, she never once uttered a word about it. She never once even thought about leaving him. Her heart was too compassionate, but it made her naïve. She let herself be blinded by her love for him that she ignored all the warning signs and turned away from all the opportunities to walk away from the pain that always seemed to linger close but never comes.

He is an artist, a brilliant one at that. Unpolished, yes, but the rawness of his art is what makes it so special. (F/n) knew it was just a matter of time before the world would start to take him seriously. He is a master of his craft and he was truly dedicated to his work; so much so that at times it felt as if she didn't have a boyfriend.

Oddly enough, (F/n) was fine with it. She had been so used to watching him from a distance even before they were together that she was fine whenever he treated her coldly. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice kept reminding her that at the end of the day he would apologize, and at the end of the day, he would still come back to her.

He came back, yes, but a word of apology never left his mouth. He always treated her normally after a fight, as if nothing had even happened; as if everything was alright; as if he was not broken.

**\---**

(F/n) leaned in over Arthur's shoulder to take a peek at his sketch. He didn't seem to notice her presence as he kept lightly but quickly running the pencil over the paper on his desk, pausing at certain times to visualize his design before continuing to sketch it down.

Pouting to herself as she realized that he was not going to notice her until he finished drawing down his thoughts, (F/n) stepped away and looked around his study as if it was the first time she had been there. She pressed her fingers on the spines of his portfolios as they stood on a small bookshelf on the far wall, letting her hand brush along with them as she moved. The wooden floor creaked slightly as she passed and she let her hand fall limp to her side as the rows of portfolios ended.

In front of her stood mannequins, some clothed, some bare. There were many unfinished designs draped over them and she couldn't contain her giddy smile as she imagined how utterly beautiful they would look when Arthur got around to finally piece them together. He surely liked to take his time.

"(F/n)," she heard the man call from his desk. She looked over her shoulder to see him still hunched down and sketching, almost not believing her ears. She was about to turn away when he looked up to meet her gaze. "Come here."

Wordlessly, she followed his soft command and sat on the chair opposite his desk. His face was scrunched in concentration as he tore his eyes away from the paper and back onto hers. He lifted the sketch and brought it close to her face without showing her as if trying to visualize her wearing the dress. Had it been an unusual thing for him, she would've blushed, but she was used to it. She knew that she was his muse, and almost all his designs were made to fit her; whether he did this subconsciously or intentionally she didn't care. A low hum echoed through the room before Arthur went back to his sketch and added some finishing touches.

(F/n) stood and made her way over to him, peering over his shoulder again to look at his drawing. It was a rough draft, but she could make out the lines of the design. He was obviously not finished, but as he rested back on his chair, she took that as a chance to snatch the paper away and scurried to the other side of the room.

"Hey!" She simply laughed him off and smiled widely as she took in more details of the dress. Arthur got off his chair and walked over to her, pressing a warm hand on her waist as he looked over his drawing again.

"It isn't finished," he said into her ear, his voice low and sweet. (F/n) continued smiling. "I know."

"What do you think about the hemline?" he asked as he pointed to the lower part of the dress. "I was thinking of putting fringes."

"No," (F/n) stated firmly, tilting her head at an angle to mimic one of his many habits when looking at his designs. "I think it'll look better with frills. Well, not _frills_ , but that other thing. What's it called again?"

His brows furrowed in confusion as he cocked his head to the side predictably, almost making (F/n) laugh as he tried to imagine her suggestion.

"D'you mean a pleated skirt?" (F/n) snapped her fingers as she nodded. "Yes, that's the one I'm talking about."

Arthur looked over the drawing once more, pondering over both their visions. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he swiftly took the paper from his girlfriend's fingers. "Alright, that's enough for today, this is confidential, young lady."

(F/n) laughed and turned to try and grab the paper back but he held it over his head, overpowering her with his height. She pouted at him and continued trying to grab the sheet as he held it up or behind him, switching it from one hand to another. He turned to walk back to his desk, making sure to keep (F/n) away as she pressed herself against his back and continued in vain to get the design back in her hands.

"Come on, Arthur, one more look," she teased as she tugged at his elbow, effectively pulling his arm and the paper closer to her. Before she knew it, she was roughly pushed away by a strong force and she tumbled to the ground. She heard the blond click his tongue in annoyance and even with her eyes facing the floor, she knew he was glaring. Without another word, he went back to his desk and continued his work as (F/n) got off the floor and out of the room.

As soon as her footsteps were far enough to be inaudible, Arthur let out an aggravated sigh and held his head in his hands. He's done it again. He didn't mean to shove her away, but something had clicked inside him before he could stop it. Just when her fingers were about to touch the paper, an onslaught of flashbacks played in his mind and he snapped. No, he couldn't let her see it. He couldn't let her see his masterpiece before it was finished. If she saw it, she might walk away. She might leave him just like everyone else did. He couldn't let that happen. Not (F/n). He couldn't lose her.

**\---**

"That smells good, love," Arthur commented as he stood behind (F/n). She smiled at him and relaxed under his touch when he pressed himself against her, caging her in his warmth and nuzzled his nose into her hair.

"Are you complimenting my cooking or my perfume?" she teased as she turned the heat of the stove down. "Both," he breathed into her. She let out a chuckle and shook her head. He had been quite affectionate lately, not that she was complaining, but it was certainly out of character for him. She knew why though. Their third year anniversary was close, just a few days away, and he would always become so loving and so doting before it came to pass. 

She had always wanted to question him about it, partly because he would turn back to being normal and standoffish a few days after the said day passed and also because she felt like some prized possession of his that he was so scared of losing, resulting in him spoiling her just to keep her from leaving. But (F/n) knew better than to question Arthur's behaviour. He had a short fuse when it came to the reasons of how he is; his oddness was always a sensitive subject to discuss.

After they had eaten and while Arthur was washing the dishes, (F/n) slipped into his study. She noticed a plain white box on his desk, secured closed with a red satin ribbon. Letting her curiosity get the best of her she approached it. Had he already gotten her a gift? She tugged at the end of the ribbon and let it come undone before she started lifting the lid of the box.

Out of nowhere, Arthur came and slammed his hand on the container, keeping it shut and looking as pale as a ghost. His shaking pupils looked at hers in panic and she jumped at the unexpected intrusion. Laughing his strangeness off, she moved away from him and went towards one of the mannequins that wore one of his latest designs.

"You should really keep surprises hidden," she said, smiling at him. He didn't appear to be calming down so she looked away and at the dress on the mannequin instead. It was the same one he was sketching a week earlier. Her smile grew fonder as she brushed her fingers against the pleated skirt. He took her suggestion. "This one looks great. Should I try it on?"

He took a deep breath and avoided her eyes. "I'm unsatisfied with that, it's, it's still incomplete. Maybe next time." At her failed attempt to calm him, (F/n) frowned but let it pass. Instead of moping, she walked towards him and tugged him out of the room.

"Remember that new show I was telling you about? I think it's almost on," she babbled randomly, distracting him from what had happened and effectively pulling him away from his thoughts.

**\---**

Arthur crumpled another piece of paper and chucked it over his shoulder, not caring to check if it had landed into the bin. His mind was whirling with brainstorms but he couldn't get them on the paper. Every sketch was not what he wanted to see. A frustrated growl tore its way from his throat as he stared at his desk. It was littered with sheets of paper, pieces of fabric, pencils, rubbers, and photographs; photographs of (F/n). He picked one from the mess and gently caressed the face of his beloved. She was in one of his dresses, a formal smile on her face as she posed the way he instructed.

"Beautiful. So beautiful," he whispered to himself. 

The moment he said it, his mind blanked out and he saw himself in his study, but in different clothes. The morning light was no longer seeping in through the high windows. Instead, the intense glare of the sunset bathed the room in a warm glow. In his hands were a bouquet of freshly picked (according to the old woman behind the counter at the flower shop) red roses. He stared down at his feet to see brown oxford shoes instead of his moccasins and pale khaki slacks instead of his comfortable pyjamas. He took another look around the room before dread consumed him. An all-too-familiar brown slip of paper was lying on his desk, waiting to be opened and read; waiting to break him again. This was the scene of his break up with _her_. He can't remember her face and can barely remember her name, but her betrayal was still fresh in his mind. She had left him and had never looked back. She had left him without personally saying goodbye. She had broken his heart and scattered the pieces and drove him to the brink of insanity.

They could have talked it out. She could've done so much better at explaining her troubles than that damned slip of paper could. Arthur let his grip on the bouquet loosen and stepped over the flowers as he made his way to the desk. He took the note she had left and started shredding it into a million pieces, not stopping until he could no longer grab at it to tear it apart any further. Warm tears flowed down his face as an invisible force squeezed at his heart and almost quite literally yanked it from his chest.

_"I loved you, I cared for you, that's it_  
_I loved you but now I hate you, that's the one reason"_

He gritted his teeth, keeping his sobs in and falling to his knees. She had left him on their anniversary. How worse could it get? He wept silently, his mouth agape but no sounds came out, only his tears. He looked across the room towards a white dress, his masterpiece. It would've fitted her so perfectly. Rage consumed him as he got up and stalked towards the mannequin. With shaking hands, he ran over the material of the clothing, his self-control cracking as a few sobs broke free from his mouth. He tore and clawed at any part of the dress he could manage to reach as he cried, ripping it to shreds just as he had done with the paper moments prior. Her words echoed relentlessly in his mind.

' _I loved you._ ' Lie. ' _I cared for you._ ' Lie. ' _But now I hate you_.' Truth. He panted, trying to catch his breath as he finally calmed down.

A dull ache pierced through his skull, making him stumble back to his desk and fall onto his chair with a struggled huff. He was back. He was no longer in a suit and it was no longer sundown. He was back to his pyjamas, moccasins, and morning light. In his blinded fit, he had managed to tear down almost his whole study apart, under the illusion that he was merely tearing down a dress. Frantic footfalls thundered down the hall, approaching the room with speed before (F/n) appeared at the doorway, pale and trembling. "Arthur?! What's wrong, I heard things breaking!"

His dull, dazed eyes simply stared at her as she looked him over again before staring at the room in terror. Her breath was coming in quick, raspy gasps as she took small steps towards him with caution. She gulped audibly before her eyes softened as she looked into his. His green eyes were troubled. Fear swam in the depths of his pupils and (F/n) let her guard down. He was just as confused and terrified as she was, she realized. He wasn't himself. She wrapped her arms around him reassuringly from behind as he closed his eyes. She tightened her embrace around him as if reassuring him that she was right there; that she wouldn't leave. In response, he leaned into her touch and placed his hand atop hers. She was here. She was his.

**\---**

Arthur awoke in a start, confused and alert as he looked around. A feeling of misery sat heavily inside his chest, making him uneasy. He had a nightmare, that much he could remember, but of what? He sat upright and only then did he realize that he had fallen asleep in front of the television, _again_. He messed up his blond locks and closed his eyes, trying to put himself at ease. Why was he so tense? A frustrated sigh came from the man's lips before he got off the sofa and trudged into the corridor leading to his study.

His brows met together in confusion as he noticed the door slightly ajar. He pushed it open and sighed in relief as he saw everything in place. Nothing had been touched since the last time he had entered. He went over to his desk and picked up (F/n)'s photographs before tucking them away in one of the drawers. He wouldn't need them anymore. His masterpiece was finished. He circled around it a few times, looking from top to bottom, left to right, and at all possible angles to pinpoint a defect in his creation. None. It was flawless. _She_ was flawless.

He took a step closer to her; to (F/n), to her embalmed body wearing his anniversary gift. "Beautiful. So beautiful."

He stroked her soft hair and gently laid his forehead on her shoulder as he replayed the scenes of the earlier week. She had threatened to leave him. She said she would pack her bags if he couldn't bring himself to take care of her. He _was_ taking care of her, couldn't she see that? He was making her a princess of their own fairytale. He was making all of those dresses for her, he was giving them all to her, so she couldn't leave. No, he won't allow that. He had tried to talk her out of it. He had tried explaining his point but all his words fell on deaf ears.

Instead of listening, she had called him 'strange, cold, and detached.' But he wasn't. He loved her. He loved her with every fibre of his being. But she said that she didn't love him. Not anymore. No, that wasn't true, she was lying. No, he wasn't going to lose her. She had accepted him when no one else had. She had helped him when everyone else turned their backs. They had a special bond; a pact. She was _his_. She wasn't meant to leave, she promised she wouldn't, and Arthur was never one to break promises, so he made sure she kept hers.

He took a step back and admired his work once more. It was finally finished. His _magnum opus_ , '(F/n).'

A small smile graced his lips as he marvelled at her beauty. " _Let's not grow apart_."

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally published in Wattpad on Apr 20, 2018.


End file.
